


Clematis

by perdue



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Potpourri - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdue/pseuds/perdue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary has it bad for her dorm mate Yvette, and decides to release some of the tension on her own in the dead of night hoping that no one else will hear her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clematis

**Author's Note:**

> more self-indulgent porn.

The dormitory was pitch black. Mary was sure it was past 3 in the morning at least, but she still couldn’t sleep, fidgeting restlessly underneath the covers for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes. Yvette was two beds away from hers, and the other girl was all Mary could think about. Her striking blue eyes, her beautifully long blonde hair and how mesmerizing it was to watch her undo her braid at night. Mary found herself fantasizing about touching Yvette’s fluffy, wavy hair, of brushing it and running her fingers through it. In her mind’s eye, she could push all her hair aside and kiss the back of her neck and—

Mary felt her face grow hot, felt herself beginning to sweat underneath the covers, and decidedly pushed them off. It had been like this every night for a week. Her mind wouldn’t stop running over to Yvette, whether she was daydreaming in class or in the dead of night when all her dorm mates were fast asleep. It naturally was making it difficult to sleep, which only increased her daydreaming in class. She was starting to worry her marks would fall if she couldn’t get Yvette off her mind. 

Regardless, her mind never seemed to want to stray far from her blonde dorm mate. She fantasized about the girl’s freckles, little constellations written across her cheeks, the sharp angle of her chin and the way she smiled and laughed when she was in a good mood and Mary thought about the shape of her lips, wondered what they would feel like if she were to brush a thumb against them, if she were to kiss them. 

She turned her head over towards Yvette’s bed, even though she couldn’t see anything, and she knew the other girl wasn’t awake. Mary liked to imagine she could pick out Yvette’s soft breathing out from the others’. What would it be like to feel Yvette’s breathing? Her mind conjured up another fantasy, of Yvette leaning over her, close enough to kiss her, and imagined she could feel her soft breaths puffing over her face. 

Mary’s hand began to wander, fingertips tickling up her stomach, reaching underneath her nightshirt until she shyly reached the underside of her breast. She bit her lip, and glanced over in Yvette’s direction again before gripping her breast more firmly, brushing her thumb lightly over her nipple and biting her lip harder at the pleasant feeling. Would Yvette touch her like this? She could imagine how shy Yvette would be about it, how Mary would likely have to take her hand and put it there herself. 

Yvette was just so beautiful and even though she always put on a front of aloofness, Mary could see from watching her nonstop how much she cared about others—or, at least, how much she cared about Dox. Mary knew that Dox was Yvette’s world. But that was okay. Even if Mary would be happy to experience the same attention Yvette gave to Dox, she was content to sit on the sidelines of their friendship, to play games with them when they needed extra people, to cheer at Yvette’s Quidditch games. She was really more than happy to be in the periphery of Yvette’s life, if it meant being in her life at all. 

She cherished any attention when she received it. At least she had that, and, she thought as her other hand inched down her stomach, she had _this_. Her hand dipped below the band of her boxers and tentatively touched the space between her legs. 

Mary had had plenty of crushes before, little bursts of affection that bloomed in her chest and stayed there as long as she continued to water the garden of her heart. They were like daffodils, petunias, and tulips, and they were beautiful and Mary cherished them. But as seasons passed, they remained yet never grew, nothing more than innocent and fleeting affections. Yvette was not a single flower—she was clematis, a vine-like climbing flower that grew more and more with each passing rain, the smell of which grew stronger and sweeter and more intoxicating the longer Mary knew her. 

No one had ever awoken such fire inside her before, burning slow and hot and needy at the pit of her stomach, in the wetness she felt when she began to explore her body in the ways she never would have considered before her late-night thoughts and dreams of Yvette took over her mind. Mary’s heart beat hard in her chest, flushing with a twinge of dirty guilt as she dragged her index finger along the wet space normally hidden by her labia. 

Now with fingers wetted, she began to touch her clit gently, teasing at it until her breathing became as stuttered as her heartbeat. She felt warm all over, amazed that something could feel so nice. As she continued her ministrations, it started to feel so good that a quiet moan accidentally escaped her, and she quickly clapped the hand she’d been using to massage her breast over her mouth, face going entirely red with embarrassment. The embarrassment didn’t stop her finger from rubbing her clit though, and she squirmed and moved silently under the covers as her teeth sunk into the skin of her hand, biting into it so hard that it hurt as long as it would prevent her from making any noises. 

She didn’t stop until the feeling between her legs built up so much that she feared she would break the skin on her hand for how she tried to keep herself from whining. She was completely surrounded by her dorm mates, and the object of her affections was only two beds away—she couldn’t afford to get caught. But her legs were shaking and her clit was burning hot and almost painful now as she rubbed her finger against it faster and faster, and suddenly she was there, heavy waves of pleasure riding from the depths of her body through her dripping pussy. 

Carefully she released her hold on her own hand, though she was still breathing heavily as she wiped her finger on the inside of her boxers and curled up on her side. She felt really tired now, her last thought before drifting back to sleep that she hoped she wouldn’t have to explain the bruises she was sure covered her hand now.


End file.
